


Tales From The Summoner's Undercroft

by RedXEagl3, Stormtide_Leviathan, TheBobcat18



Series: Fire Emblem: Tales From The Summoner's Undercroft [1]
Category: Fire Emblem Heroes, Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: AU, Alcohol, Crack
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:13:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25871158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedXEagl3/pseuds/RedXEagl3, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stormtide_Leviathan/pseuds/Stormtide_Leviathan, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBobcat18/pseuds/TheBobcat18
Summary: Three people find themselves in a bar at the edge of the universe, with zero cause as to how. With nothing better to do, they strike up a conversation while enjoying tequila. Not everything is as it seems, however, as these three are connected in a way they never expected...and could others arrive later?
Series: Fire Emblem: Tales From The Summoner's Undercroft [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1877323
Comments: 6
Kudos: 24





	1. A Thief, a Knight, and a Mage enter a bar...

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter 1: A Thief, a Knight, and a Mage enter a bar...

Sam’s POV:

Strangely enough, there was no bus involved in transporting me to another world this time. Instead, this was, thankfully, non-violent and painless. That being said, this revelation still did little to quell the sudden surge of panic I had within me when I opened my eyes and saw the door to a rustic bar staring me in the face.

There was no storefront name, just a sign with a tankard painted on it in bright colors. I glared up at that sign, confusion replacing my panic.

_This is going much better than the first time. Unless the danger lies within the bar._

I glanced at the rest of my surroundings briefly, only to find that I couldn’t really see anything. Only the ethereal bar appeared clear. As video game logic goes, that’s the path I must follow. So, I took a deep breath, adjusted my leather jerkin, and stepped towards the door.

Only to bounce off of it. Irritation flooded me, and I gave the door a good shove again. Also, did my ears deceive me, or did I hear mad-cackling from the other end of the door? That does little to make me less fearful. Maybe I should just turn around and go back where I came-

_Oh right, I have no idea how I got here._ A heavy sigh left my lips, _Looks like I have no choice. I need to enter the bar, but why won’t the door open?_

Out of thin air, or mist, or whatever the hell I’m breathing in this strange realm, I saw a sign appear on the door that read: Pull.

My eye twitched, and I heard more mad cackling within the bar.

“I swear to god, that wasn’t there before,” I grumbled, grasping the door handle and yanking the door open.

As soon as I stepped inside, I was struck by the distinct scent of alcohol, burning wood, and smoke. The smell was followed by the general hum of inaudible conversation. A few groups of people were huddled around what appeared to be massive well… or was it a fire pit? Well-pit? We’ll go with the well-pit. 

_Isn’t that just a well then?_

A bit away from the well-pit, were a row of picnic tables, filled with people I did not recognize. Not that I cared about recognizing any of them, because I was more concerned about trying to figure out how I got to this place, and how I’m going to get out of it. I’ve had enough of getting transported to different worlds for one lifetime, thank you very much.

I flicked my eyes past the tables to the far wall, where a small bar sat. Behind the bar was a single bartender. I couldn’t make out much of what he… she… it looked like, given they wore a white coat that enveloped their whole body, with a deep hood drawn over their head. I got the distinct feeling that the bartender was looking at me though, which made me slink away from the door. Carefully, I crept along the walls of the tavern, using the training I had to avoid being seen.

“Hey, you!”

I never said I was any good at said training.

“Small guy!”

_Was someone calling to me? Probably. Or probably not. Either way, I’m going to ignore them and-_

I froze when the world around me shimmered and rippled with golden light. In the blink of an eye, the shadows and wall behind me disappeared and were replaced by a bar table, a bench, and two people sitting down at the table with me. The person sitting next to me was about my size, maybe even skinnier, somehow. I don’t know, those heavy, purple robes did a lot to hide his features. Thankfully, unlike the bartender, he did not wear a hood, which gave me a good look at his face. Seemed friendly enough, even if a grouchy expression marred his tanned face. A dark beard lined his chin, and short hair crowned his head. Beyond that, he didn’t appear all that impressive. But I know mage robes when I see them. And purple usually means bad where I’m from.

_Oh god, is he Grimleal?_

“Now wasn’t that more effective than shouting across the bar, Alex?” The mage commented, bringing his glass to his lips and taking a sip.

My gaze whipped across the table, towards the absolute unit of a man with short blonde hair, and a sharp, short goatee on his chin. His bulky, blue armor clanked as he shifted, one gauntleted hand reaching up to scratch a long scar on his face.

“I would’ve gotten his attention eventually.”

“In this case, I do not think third time’s the charm would’ve worked.” The Mage countered.

“Well, you didn’t give me the chance to try so-”

“Who the hell are you two?” I cut in before they could descend further into bickering.

The armored man frowned at me, “At least he speaks my language.”

“That he does.” The Mage muttered, “And we were about to ask you the same thing.”

My gaze shifted back and forth between the two men, “So… do I answer first, or do you?”

A long groan left the armored man’s lips, “Oh for fuck’s sake,” He huffed, “I’m Alex. Broody over there is Santos.”

“I am not brooding,” Santos grumbled, “I am nursing my drink, there is a distinct difference. I’d be brooding if I woke up naked again.”

I arched an eyebrow, “Okay, then. Well, I’m Sam. Or well…” My eyes wandered around the bar. All of the people here looked like they belonged in the world I came from. So perhaps I could figure out how I got here by dropping the name Owain gave me, “Does the name Samwise mean anything to you two?”

Alex gave me a puzzled look, “The only Samwise I know is Gamgee.”

My jaw fell open.

“Ah, Lord of the Rings, good memory to have there.” Santos nodded, sipping his drink once again.

I stared at both of them, utterly dumbfounded. Did I hear what Alex just said correctly? Did he really just reference the Lord of the Rings while wearing Fire Emblem armor?

_What the fuck is going on anymore?_ _  
  
_

“You know about-” I shook my head, and ran a hand through my hair, “Hooo boy, I’m lost.”

“Santos, you’re a doctor right?” Alex asked.

“Yes.”

“Why is Samwise turning white?”

Santos arched an eyebrow, “He was already- oh that’s a panic attack.”

“And how do we-”  
  


“Give it a moment.”

I sucked in a sharp breath, and let out a loud wheeze of an exhale. My hands gripped the edge of the table, knuckles turning white as I glared at both men wide-eyed.  
  


“What fresh new hell have I entered!?”

Alex furrowed his brow, “I’d say a decent one, at least.”

“Agreed, this one has alcohol.” 

Their lackadaisical responses snapped me from my panic.

“Why are you both so… do you live here or something?”

“Nope. We were brought here, just like you.” Alex commented, “And I hope to go home soon; I miss my wife.” 

“Brought?”

“Turns out this is a gathering place for people from different universes. That, or an insane dream, I don’t know at this point. I’m simply enjoying the tequila.” Santos explained, taking on a professorial tone as he leaned back in his seat, “So, with that out of the way, where are you from?”

“Uh… there are multiple answers to that question.”

“Tellius?” Alex asked.

Confusion filled me, “The hell is a Tellius?”

“Fodlan, then?” Santos inquired.

I blinked, “Now that one I’ve heard of, but no.”

“Dagda?”

“Wisconsin.” I finally answered.

Alex groaned and ran a hand over his face, “Yes, yes, and I’m from Maryland. Santos is from Arizona, but _where_ are you from?”

“I just ans-” It clicked in my mind. They wanted the other answer to their question, “Ylisse.”

Alex glared at me, “Ylisse?”  
  


“Well, sort of, it’s complicated and-”

“How come I haven’t run into you then?” Alex asked.

Santos paused mid-sip, “You’re both from the same place.”

“Same video-game too.” Alex followed up.

Santos’s eye twitched, “There is no proof of that, and you cannot convince me.”

“Look, this guy, Sam, is the proof. Because he is from Ylisse, but I’ve never heard of him before.”

“Countries are big places.” Santos deadpanned.

Alex rolled his eyes, “Samwise, do you know the Shepherds?”

My fingers tapped along the top of the table, “I know some of them.”

“Like who?”

I pursed my lips, “Well, I know Gaius and Anna pretty well. Tiki and Lissa I’m cordial with. Donnel is… Donnel.” I shook some rough memories from my brain at that one, while Alex’s eyes slowly widened, “But I know the kids the best.”

“Donnel is dead,” Alex grumbled, looking down at the table, “And we’ve never met or recruited an Anna. How the hell are you so friendly with those last two, though? One’s royalty, the other’s a fucking demigod.”

“Well, living in a ruined future tends to get rid of titles pretty fast.”

Alex gawked at me, “Ruined future?”

“I am very lost right now,” Santo muttered.

Alex waved a hand at me, “You mean to tell me that you,” His finger jabbed in my direction, “Are from the ruined future?”

I shrank a little as Alex’s voice rose, “Uh… yeah?”

I wasn’t sure how he would react next. Was he going to yell at me more? Surge across the table and hit me? Retreat and contemplate my words? Nope, none of those. To my utter shock, he started chuckling.

“I’m as lost as you are now, Santos.”

“Welcome to the club, I’ll order more tequila. After that, I may have some solutions for you.”

“You have no solutions; you are more delusional than me,” Alex argued.

“Says the one who thinks this is all a video-game.” Santos countered, causing Alex to fold his arms and grumble under his breath, “Anyways, Samwise, or Sam?”

“Either or.”

“Sam, then.” Santos continued, “What do you mean by ruined future?”

I pursed my lips, “Well… it is a video-game so I thought you’d be familiar with-”

“Oh by the goddess…”  
  


“How is Donnel alive in the ruined future? How is…” Alex sucked in a sharp breath, “Do you know the future me?”

I leaned over the table and studied Alex’s face for a moment. Clearly a grizzled soldier, with a gaze that reminded me much of Frederick’s or Donnel’s, but maybe not as traumatized. There is still a spark there that contains life and hope, which means he’s not from the ruined future like I am. But for the life of me, I could not recognize him.

I shook my head, “Nope. Don’t recognize you. Are you an NPC that died before Grima showed up?”

“No!” Alex bellowed, running his hands over his face, “No, I am the Knight-Captain of Ylisse!”

“That’s Frederick’s job.”

“That’s-”

“Have either of you considered that you are from separate times in separate worlds?” Santos cut in, swirling his drink in his hand.

I opened my mouth to argue back, then snapped it closed. Santos’ explanation actually explains a lot. Two different realities would explain why I have no idea who this Alex guy is, even if he is supposed to be the Knight-Captain of Ylisse where he is from.

“That… makes some sense.” I muttered.

“Yeah,” Alex muttered.

“Good, now quit with the bickering and-”

“Wait, you know Severa then!”

“Dios mio…” 

Now, that is an interesting point of conversation. Why would Alex want to know if I know Severa? Isn’t it obvious that I know her since I’m from the ruined future?

“Yeah, I know her. Why?” I replied.

A broad grin formed on Alex’s face, and what he said next made me realize that this was going to start awkward, then end in a world of pain.

* * *

Alex PoV: 

I blinked once and then twice. Something was off. The last thing I remembered was lying in bed, Cordelia by my side. The place was definitely not a cozy bed. No, it smelled like alcohol; wine and beer flowing from great barrels and given to thirsty patrons. Not someplace I'd usually seen myself, not since Gaius tried to explain to me how attractive I supposedly was.

Blinking once more just to make sure I wouldn’t suddenly wake up, I looked around wildly, breath leaving me in quick bursts. My left hand pawed at the sword that was inexplicably at my side. The clanking of my armor resounded through the tavern, but the bar-goers didn’t seem the least bit upset by my presence.

Someone else was, though.

“You appear to be distressed.”

I spun around, my left hand still on Sol’s pommel as I watched the newcomer warily. He was a slight man, dressed in a white robe. I grit my teeth, occasionally switching my glance to other people who got close.

“You’re goddamn right I’m ‘distressed, you fuckin’ clown!” I growled, refocusing my attention on the robed man. “Where the hell am I? Where’s Cordy? Where’s everyone else-!?”

“Shouting will certainly not bring her to you, my friend,” He said calmly, folding his hands together. “Please, wouldn’t you rather take a seat? I assure you, nothing of fell nature will befall you while you are here.”

I watched the robed man, trying to discern any ill intent. There was none; his stance was calm, his voice strangely soothing. I was no stranger to magic that did shit similar to that, but it didn’t feel like magic. Trashing the tavern wouldn’t get me anywhere and trying to attack the man probably wasn’t a good idea either. I sighed, trying to relax as I rubbed the back of my neck.

“...Fine,” I grumbled, walking over to the single solitary table without patrons at it. “Just to be clear, I don’t trust you. Shit like this? Doesn’t happen unless dragons are getting involved. Fucking… are you a dragon?”

“I assure you, my friend, I am not a dragon,” The man answered, heading towards the front of the bar. “I shall bring you something to drink. What would you like?”

I thought for a moment. “Wine,” I said, slumping down. “Red. You don’t have Altean Red, do you?”

“I shall bring it to you right away. Please, enjoy yourself. More will be here soon.”

I raised a brow at that but quickly shoved that suspicious statement to the back of my mind. A few moments later, a glass finds itself at my table, and I take a sip.

I sat there for what felt like an hour, the only thing to keep me company being my wine glass and the constant drone of the bar-goers. My body had settled, but my mind was as active as ever. I couldn’t help but wonder what the actual hell I was doing there. How I got there. Why I was suddenly clad in my full plate armor. Not that I was complaining; it made me feel safe, honestly. But that was beside the point. I heard my heart in my ears as an incessant buzz nestled in my head.

I heard the door to the bar open. Or tavern, what have you. A man clad in purple robes with strangely shaped patterns etched into the cloth entered. I proceeded to ignore him; probably another one of the patrons, come to join the background noise.

That’s what I thought until he approached me, at least, and spoke.

* * *

Santos PoV:

A serene feeling overcame my senses as my eyes fluttered open. I was already standing, and before stood a large tavern made of large swathes of dark oaken logs and cobblestone. As I looked out to my left and right, nothing but swirling thick mists surrounded the area, giving it an aura of mystery. 

I’m most certain this is a dream, albeit a lucid one at that. Perhaps the strange machinations of a spirit or god? If it is, they have a strange sense of humor sending me to a bar of all places. 

I look down to check myself and breathe a sigh of relief. “Thank the goddess I’m not naked.” 

Being clothed in my purple Dagdan mage robes is somewhat comforting. It is what I wear most these days anyways. But now the question; to enter the bar or not? Looking around at my other options, I believe the answer is simple. Enter the bar and see if I can get free booze in my dream. 

As I approached the bar, the sounds of chatter and laughter reverberated through the walls. Well, at least I won’t be drinking alone it seems. Good on my psyche or whatever deific forces that are at work. 

The door opened with only putting up slight resistance as I leaned my shoulder into it to reveal a resplendent tavern. People chatting about in the wooden tables lined the place across from a large well built right into the middle of the place. A few people playing cards along with some other patrons of the bar nursing their drinks pay no mind to me as I enter. All their garb ranges from peasant clothes to knight’s full plate. 

I stroll past the other busy patrons toward the front of the bar where I see a fellow in a hooded white overcoat and blue undershirt. Not the typical bartender, but I’ve seen stranger things and this is a dream. A mage as a bartender isn’t the most far fetched thing my mind has tried to convince me of. 

“What tequila do you recommend and what are your rates?” I said to the bartender who points up at an overhanging sign. I squint my eyes as I look up and read aloud, “Travelers order free of charge...” 

Well, this dream just keeps getting better and better. 

“I shall bring you over a drink. Why not mingle with some patrons?” The bartender suggested as he gestured to the tables. “Indulge, and enjoy yourself. Time is of no consequence here.” 

Sounds like magical shenanigans, but I won’t complain. Less likely now that it’s a lucid dream, but the alternative doesn’t sound too bad either. At least when free drinks are on tap. 

As I scanned the room for a seat, unfortunately, all the tables are at least moderately occupied. Well, time to pick the one with the least amount of people. I spot a rather large knight clad in full plate with a splendid sword at his side that is practically radiating magical energy. Maybe if I get him drunk enough he’ll let me take a peek at it? 

I walk over to the table with the grizzled blonde-haired knight who seems much younger upon closer inspection than I would have thought. Perhaps it’s his demeanor or way he sits? A glass of red wine sits in front of him on the table that’s about half empty. He doesn’t seem to take much interest in me as I sit across from him and fidget to get comfortable. 

“Interesting place, isn’t it?” I muse aloud to get the knight’s attention. I look over to the bar where I see the mysterious mage currently mixing my drink. “What do you know about the place?” 

“Not a goddamn thing, mage.” The knight grunted, taking a swig from his glass. “Showed up about an hour ago and that ‘bartender’ over there asked me to take a seat. Who the hell are you?”

“Name is Santos, though if you prefer to call me ‘mage’, you wouldn’t be the first. Does the disgruntled knight have a name?” I tease back as a small glass of tequila materializes before me. Seems the bartender is also a fan of the Warp spell. A man of magical culture. 

“Yeah, it’s Alex and watch your sass, mage.” 

Sure, said the guy with a vulgar vocabulary. I brush off Alex’s brusque remark and shrug. “Noted. I don’t recognize the heraldry of your armor, mind telling me where you are from?” 

Alex shifted a bit in his seat and immediately downs the rest of his wine, before wiping away any residual spillage with his sleeve. “I’ll answer that once I have more wine.” 

_Naturally_. 

I look over to the bar where I see the bartender tending to another patron, but the rack on the wall behind the bartender is visible. I can see various wine vintages displayed, amongst other hard liquors. Well, he did say the alcohol was free? With a twitch of my finger, I cast Warp on one of the bottles of wine, having the vintage appear on the table. 

I smirk as Alex looked at the bottle with a mix of curiosity and surprise. “Okay, so you’re actually a useful mage,” He grunted as he ripped off the top to the bottle. Don’t you need a corkscrew for that? 

“I’ve been called worse, but I can’t have my new drinking buddy go dry.” 

Alex merely nodded as he gave the wine a sniff before pouring half of the bottle into his glass. Seems I managed to snag a dessert wine due to the smaller size. If anything, it’ll be sweet and hard to argue with unless he’s one of those miscreants that actually prefer merlot and dryer varieties. Not that I’d tell that to a man who can rip the tops of bottles with mere finger strength alone. 

Before either of us can get in another word, I hear the doors to the creak open. I look over to see a meek roguish type man wearing a leather jerkin paired with a cloak, along with the faintest beats of magic coming off of him. Perhaps he could provide some answers or at least some perspective to this strange place? 

I look around the bar briefly to see nobody else has either noticed or cared about the new arrival. His eyes seem to dart around as he quickly closes the door behind him. Well, let’s get his attention. 

I nudge Alex from underneath the table and whisper, “Hey, help me get that guy’s attention. He may know something.” 

“Small guy!” 

Well, that’s one way to call out the guy. 

He doesn’t seem to move as he stands still and looks toward Alex and me. Well, hopefully, he doesn’t mind teleporting as much as Balthus does. I focus my mana and cast Rescue on the lad, which neatly teleports him to the seat beside me. Magic is truly a blessing, even in this weird dream area. 

* * *

Alex's PoV: 

I smiled, then. Course he knew Severa. How could he not?

“She great in your world, too?” I chuckled, crossing my arms and leaning back. “Not sure if she’s _my_ daughter in your world or whatever, but I’m still proud of her. The other future kids are great, don’t get me wrong, heh, but, you know.”

Sam looked at me, confused, “Your daughter? Um… last I checked, Severa was Robin’s daughter.”

“You screwed with time, and this is what you get,” Santos remarked as he took another swig from his drink. “It’s a small miracle you didn’t collapse your whole world in on itself.” 

Whatever good feelings I had dissolved and evaporated like a drop of water in the middle of the Plegian desert. “What,” I said flatly. “‘Scuse me. Run that one by me again.”

Sam appeared even more confused, “Um, well, I’m not sure I ever had to give the talk to a grown adult before but-”

“I know how sex works, you goddamn thief. I’m asking, _what the fuck_ . Robin and Cordy _hate_ each other. Well, _she_ hates him, not sure about the other way around- But that’s beside the point! How the _hell_ did that happen!?”

“When messing with time, just be happy everybody didn’t spontaneously turn into mole people. Two people hating each other instead is a _great_ alternative to the other options,” Santos remarked as he teleported another bottle of liquor over. 

“One more word and I’ll shove that bottle down your throat,” I growled, glaring at Santos before looking back towards the thief. “What kind of time-fuckery- Okay, you know what? It’s fine. I’m fine. You’re not gonna be fine- I mean, you’re fine. Alright. We’re cool. Yeah,” I took a deep breath and leaned back. “Severa’s probably not happy with that whole family scenario. Then again, she wasn’t exactly thrilled to see me again when I met her. Is she alright, Sam? Severa, I mean. In your timeline.”

Sam’s fingers drummed along the top of the table, “She’s fine yes. A lot has happened,” He rubbed the back of his neck as more nervousness washed over him, “But um, yeah, things are good.”

“I think Sam’s hiding something,” Santos chuckled as he hid his face inside his glass. 

I raised a brow at the mage. “Think so? Hmm,” I looked down at the thief, who was madly blushing. “What’re you hiding, Samwise? Tell me.”

Sam muttered something under his breath. Something about ‘torture’, ‘interrogation’, and ‘can’t make me’.

My expression hardened. “Sam. Sammy. I’m starting to think I know what’s going on. If you don’t tell me, I’ll force it out of you.”

Sam raised his eyes, “Uh… so, um… you see, it started with me taking an ax for Severa when I had no idea what was going on, then it devolved from there, we survived an apocalypse, jumped back in time, wound up in Plegia, and then things happened in the desert-”

“Santos. Santos, give me your tequila bottle. Now.”

Santos looked longingly at the bottle before handing it over. “Treat it well. It’s done nothing wrong here.” 

“It’s about to do the greatest thing of its short life,” I assured him. “ _Bottom’s up._ ”

The burning liquid slid down my throat, and I nearly felt myself gag from the intensity. Soon enough, however, the entire bottle was drained.

I slumped in my chair, looking up towards the ceiling. Completely despondent. 

* * *

Santos' PoV: 

Well, that spiraled south quickly. Alex seems almost ready to keel over, yet he’s remaining upright. Probably a mix of his soldier’s pride and constitution. Sam on the other hand...well, I think the poor guy is a wee bit terrified. Granted, nothing violent happened, so I’m happy I didn’t have to intervene. Don’t need my lucid drinking dream ruined just yet. 

I look to Sam and smile. “So, let’s change the subject?” 

“I’m gonna become a grandpapi,” Alex moaned as he slammed a hand against the table for stability. 

“Yes, please change the subject. The knight is docile now, but if he hears about what Sev and I have done then-”

“I might,” Alex hiccuped. “I _might_ be off my fuckin’ rocker but I _can still hear you, jackass._ ”

He’s still somewhat lucid, so that’s good. I won’t have to cast Restore on him to help purge his system of the poisons. The hangover is still a bitch and a half though. 

“Not for long.” Sam muttered under his breath, before clearing his throat, “So, Santos, where are you from?”

“Years ago, I was a doctor working out of Tucson. Nice gig until things went sideways.” 

“Did you get a rude greeting from the city bus too?”

A bus? What the hell is he talking about? I really hope there isn’t some interdimensional transit system. It is crazy enough to almost make sense. 

I shake my head. “No, more like the earth opened up underneath me and sucked me through to a place with ritual signs and cultists. Nasty business.” 

Sam shrugged, “At least you didn’t have to deal with the undead right out the gate. I thought I woke up in Kansas, then a zombie tried to kill me, and from there… well… you get the point.”

“Thinking about it, I might take zombies over my situation. Torture and being forced to take part in a war isn’t my ideal way of waking up in a new world,” I said. Seriously, I’d love to have a do-over. Give me the zombie apocalypse. 

“The Death Dragon that leads the Zombies killed my version of Dragon Jesus.” Sam deadpanned.

“Tiki’s dead!?” Alex cried. “Robin, I’m so sorry…”

“Lemme guess, the whole ‘thousand years of darkness and genocide plan’?” 

Sam blinked, “Huh, well you know your shit then.”

I shrug. “More like I’d say that our interdimensional overlords lack originality, but I digress.” I Warp over another bottle of tequila, this time keeping it out of reach of the tipsy knight before looking back to Sam. “So how does magic work for you?” 

Sam’s brow furrowed, as he thought for a moment, “That’s a Laurent question, and I really have no idea. The one rule of magic I do know, through a series of unfortunate events, is that only a mage can open their personal spellbook. Anyone else tries to open it, and bad things happen.”

“Mages need spellbooks?” 

“Well yeah?” Sam replied, “I mean, how else are you supposed to focus all that power? At least, I think that’s how Laurent explained it? He used bigger words though.”

“Magic is bullshit,” Alex commented, wiping at his forehead.

“I completely agree with you Alex,” I remark as I turn back to Sam. “But, I’m guessing one of two things. Either the rules are different for magic in different dimensions, or everyone from where you are from isn’t a good mage.” 

“After being on the receiving end of Henry’s madness, I wish the latter was true.” Sam cleared his throat, “Regardless of the rules, of which I know little, what dimension doesn’t use spellbooks?”

“Mine, apparently,” I chuckle as I crack to top off the tequila bottle and pour myself a fresh glass. “Magic is divided into many mental schools of thought to manipulate, but I doubt you want a lesson. I can tell I’m boring you.” 

“No, I’m just terrified of mages in general. Comes with being tortured by one, used by another, and pranked by the third.” Sam drew in a breath, “Honestly surprised I’m this comfortable next to a Grimleal like you.”

“Coward,” Alex grumbled. “Jump in, ya fuckin’...”

“I’m not ‘Grimleal’ considering they don’t exist in my world,” I respond. I take a small sip of my tequila and enjoy the warm flavor for a moment before turning back to Sam. “But, I’m curious as to why you haven’t commented on me teleporting bottles of liquor to the table. Figured someone like a ‘thief’ would be a bit more observant, wouldn’t you say Alex?” 

“He looks like a mouse,” Alex said, trying to keep his head up. “Like a, uh, like a rat. A daughter-stealing _rat_.”

“This rat managed to kick Grima in the balls,” Sam retorted, causing Alex’s eyes to widen. “Anyways, I noticed, but considering that outside of this bar is a giant expanse of nothingness, I chose not to question it. I mean, I don’t know if this is another dimension or a dream, but if it’s another dimension then I want to ask whatever god is in charge to send me back. I’m getting real tired of this shit.”

“I’m going to throw you,” Alex stated, attempting to get up but failing. “I’m going to… Never mind, fuck it, can’t be assed.”

Yeah, perhaps it is time to get him sobered up. Then he could be reasoned with a little bit better, and provide some more helpful insight into their worlds. Might give me some answers to some of my own issues. 

I grab my drink and point my finger at Alex and cast Restore. I smile as I watch him shake a little bit as I finish the rest of my drink. Again, magic is bullshit. 

* * *

Sam's PoV: 

So, apparently magic is indeed bullshit. I had no idea that anything, beyond a vulnerary or a healing staff, could cure a hangover. But sure enough, Santos muttered something and next thing I know Alex’s complexion returned to normal, his slurring disappeared, and his dazed and confused look turned into a very furious glare cast directly at me.

_Goddammit, Santos. You couldn't have left him drunk._

“You.” Alex began, eyes narrow, jaw clenched, and one hand balled up tight on the table, “You fucked-”

“Whoa! Whoa!” I jumped up from the table, as Alex attempted to grab me. Santos meanwhile, calmly sipped his tequila, “I didn’t do that with anyone and… wait…” My two brain cells took a second to catch up, but when they did, I blanched, “Ooooooh.”

“Yeah, buddy.” Alex replied with teeth clenched as he rose to his feet, “So, do you at least treat Sev well?”

Now, I felt confused, “What on earth gave you the impression that Severa and I are a thing?”

“You are a poor storyteller,” Santos commented.

“I am?”

“He is?” Alex growled.

Santos uttered an exasperated sigh, a few indecipherable mutters leaving his lips as he sipped his glass one more time. When he set his glass down, he focused on Alex.

“I think what Sam is trying to say is that him and whatever the hell time travel daughter you have, are not a thing.”

“I don’t even have a thing yet.” I shrugged.

Alex drew back, “Then… then why the hell-”

“I mean, at this point, Severa and I are good friends. But I haven’t noticed anything that… well… her cheeks did get pretty red the last time we chatted.”  
  


“Sam, for the sake of your health, and my sanity, shut up.” Santos groaned.

“That’s probably a good idea.”

Alex wiped at his forehead and sat back down. “I’m not drunk enough for this shit…” He perked up and glowered at Santos. “Or I _was_ , you fucking asshole.”

“Sorry, I don’t have a spell that makes people _more_ drunk. Still working on that one, trust me,” Santos offered. 

A loud bang rang out through the bar. I whipped my head around to the bar, where the bartender was smacking the countertop.

“Last call in five minutes!” The hooded man… woman… it, said, “Tips are appreciated!”

I furrowed my brow, “Tips? I haven’t even gotten a drink.” I glanced at Alex and Santos, “What do you all think?”

* * *

General PoV:

“Well, considering this is a dream and money means nothing, why not leave a tip?” Santos suggested. “I mean, it’s not like we lose anything.” 

Alex grumbled and rummaged around in a pouch to his side. Pulling out several gold coins, he mumbled, “Not even twenty. Can’t buy a shitty sword with that.”

Santos checked his pockets and sighed. “Well, I’m actually broke it seems. I dislike the realism here.” 

Sam sat back down in his seat, lips sputtering as he rummaged in various pockets. Finally, he gasped, jerked out a black, glass orb, and dropped it on the table, “I think that’ll cover it.”

Alex’s face grew pale as his mouth steadily opened in shock. He pointed his iron hand towards the gemstone on the table, looking to Sam for an explanation. Santos picked up the large gem, gently tapped it against the table, and exclaimed, “Huh. It’s glass. Neat.” 

“Don’t say that out loud-”  
  


“Fake currency will not be accepted!” The bartender called from the bar.

Sam sagged in his seat, “This close… this close…” He blew out a heavy breath, “Well, I guess I can’t tip.”  
  


Santos frowned. “No, no, that doesn’t work. Clearly you can tip. I heard your pockets jingle.”

“Cough it up, thief,” Alex demanded

“Tipping is a voluntary transaction and I am choosing not to partake.” Sam countered, leaning against the table, “Mostly because I still haven’t gotten paid where I’m from and I’m hoping these coins translate into real-life currency.”

“Tell you what, I’ll go get my wallet,” Santos said as he waved his hand and blinked out of existence. 

Sam waited a moment, blinked a few times, then glanced at Alex.

“So… enjoy the tequila bill.”

With a wave, he faded from existence.

Alex closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “...I hate you. Both of you. You know what? Fuck _this-!_ ”

Alex snarled as he latched both hands underneath the table and attempted to flip it, only to find his struggle all for naught as the table had been bolted to the floor. For all of his strength, it seemed as if he was doomed to failure.

He groaned as he slammed his head into the table. “I need more tequila…” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! This is a non-linear non-canon series from a few of us Fire Emblem OC authors; a fun crossover event! 
> 
> If you are a fan of one character but don't know the others here is where you can find them;
> 
> Alex---> Aberration by RedXEagl3 https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13275592/1/Aberration  
> Sam---> Rigged from the Start by TheBobcat18 https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13426495/1/Rigged-from-the-Start  
> Santos---> Stolen Remedy by Stormtide_Leviathan https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13412389/1/Stolen-Remedy
> 
> There may be more features with different authors and OC's in the series, some may return, but hope you enjoyed this little hypothetical!


	2. Cold War

**Episode 2**

-Sam-

_So… it’s this dream again._

Sam uttered a heavy sigh as he stared at the heavy, wooden door to the mystical tavern in front of him. It looked exactly the same as last time on the outside, although the cobwebs on the corners of the door was a new touch. 

_Wasn’t aware my brain was into new decorations._ He thought as he trudged to the door, somehow still weary from traveling through Plegia despite all this existing in his mind.

“Might as well see this through.”

The doors creaked open, and fog filtered out from the door, clinging to the ground and to Sam’s boots as he hesitated. His brow arched as shadows hung heavy within the tavern, with only pinpricks of candlelight casting faint golden glows atop spider web covered tables.

_Strange?_

A cursory glance of the tavern gave Sam even stranger vibes. The fog seemed to be streaming out of cauldrons over the large fire pit. A green haze lingered in the rafters, casting an ominous glow down on the entire tavern. Pumpkins with grotesque faces carved into their shells smiled from the dark corners of the room and from the foot of some tables. Overall, a spooky sensation lingered in the air.

_Very Halloweeny._ Sam sighed as he stepped further inside, _But that doesn’t make sense. Halloween doesn’t exist in Medieval Fantasy Dream Land._

More fog swirled around his boots, hiding the creaking floorboards beneath his feet as he made his way towards a table in the far corner of the tavern, far away from any prying eyes and unnecessary curiosity. Once there, he took a seat, wincing a little bit as his sore muscles ached.

Once he sat down, a menu appeared from thin air in front of him. On the menu were a variety of drinks with all of the cheesy Halloween names you could think of. Everything from Spooktackular Spritzer, to Steal-Your-Soul Cocktail, and one of those seemed rather appealing right now.

“Well,” Sam snapped the menu closed, “Can’t get a hangover from a dream.”

A flash of ghoulish light formed on the table, and a mug of bubbling purple liquid appeared. With a sigh, Sam plucked the drink from the table and stared at the bubbling tar within.

“Can I like… change how it looks? Maybe try and lucid dream?” Sam looked around and spotted the same hooded bartender from last time standing behind the counter, serving drinks to other shadowy patrons, “I’m guessing I can’t.”

With a shrug, he sipped the drink and winced at the thick liquid burning its way down his throat. Once it sat like a fiery brick in his gut, Sam uttered a harsh wheeze and set the mug down.

“Holy!” He squeaked, staring down at the drink, “Good god what nonsense is in this thing?”

Before he could get an answer to his question, the door creaked open then shut. Sam glanced at the door and spotted a lithe, blonde woman carefully tiptoeing her way into the tavern. Her eyes shifted back and forth among the various tables and patrons with suspicion. He studied her for a moment as she paused near the firepit.

_Must be someone new._ He sipped his drink again, nose wrinkling at the rancid taste and sludge texture, _Let her figure it-_

The woman let out a loud cry as one of the shadowy patrons brushed past her. It wasn’t a fearful cry, but rather an angry one. Like how someone would holler when they are bumped into while walking through a thick crowd. If I didn’t know better, I’d say the woman was looking for a fight now that she was nearly knocked over.

_Leave her be. Let her make a fool of herself on her own._

He studied her appearance a little closer, and then his eyes widened a little. No wonder he was not surprised by her appearance, she was wearing Feroxi clothes. Thick furs and leathers, perfectly suited for that icy hell hole.

_Yet another Archanean dragged into this dreamscape… much like Alex._ Sam leaned back in his seat, _And if I recall correctly, Alex nearly tore this place up._ One more sip of his drink for courage and he rose to his feet, _Better intervene before she tries to as well. I get the feeling the bartender is more than he seems._

With that in mind, Sam rose to his feet, strode across the tavern, and leaned up against the fire pit.

“So, you got snatched here too.”

-Anje-

Mist swirled and the young blonde woman let out a grunt of irritation. She planted her hands on the shrouded ground and quickly thrust herself to her feet, brushing off some dirt from her faded combat leathers. 

Anje groaned as she observed the solitary wooden tavern in front of her, small puffs of smoke emanating from the chimney. 

“Just...no,” Anje grumbled as she tentatively rotated her shoulder, yet she felt no soreness from her previous night of sparring. “Let’s get this witchcraft stuff over with. I want to sleep.” 

Anje stomped over to the front door, sounds of laughter and revelry slipping through the cracks of the door. Frowning, she gently placed her hand on the cold wooden door and pushed it open. The door swung cleanly on its hinges to reveal a somewhat occupied bar covered in decorations and a thin layer of fog hanging ominously in the air. The heat of the hearth crossed the threshold to warm Anje’s face as she stepped inside, much like a cat ready to pounce. 

_These pagan decorations are ridiculous._

She kept her eyes alert and attentive, taking in the festive smelling vapors as she lightly stepped across the main floor of the tavern. Nobody _seemed_ to be nefarious, yet Anje shook her head. _Of course magical nonsense would try to get me to be comfortable,_ Anje thought. 

“So, you got snatched here too.” 

Anje’s head swiveled over to a scrawny man hunched near the fire pit of the tavern, holding a menu lazily in his hand. She narrowed her eyes at the man. “What.” 

“You know, uh-” The man looked down as if trying to find the right words. “Well, you’re from Regna Ferox aren’t you?” 

_Why is the dream asking me things it should know? Obviously to confuse me._

“No.” 

The man gave her a flat stare and then shrugged. “Suit yourself, but the liquor here isn’t too bad. No hangovers are nice.” 

Anje frowned, shooting a glance to the suspicious hooded man at the bar, and then back to the slender man in a leather jerkin with linen head covering, topped with a wild and untamed head of hair. He didn’t _look_ threatening, but neither did she at first glance. She approached anyway, striding forward confidently toward his table. 

Anje stood behind the chair opposite the man, glowering at his lackadaisical facade. “You the magic person doing this thing?” 

“Me? God no,” He said. “If I were in charge, I wouldn’t charge for the alcohol.” 

Anje narrowed her eyes. “Sure. So you're not the mage-or whatever. You trapped here?” 

The man shrugged. “For now. I’m not that worried. It’s not my first time here, and there’s a lot less commotion this time around. I’m digging it so far.” 

“ _Fantastic_ ,” Anje huffed dismissively as she pulled out the chair and sat down. “So, what’s the point of this then?” 

“Your guess is as good as mine, lady,” The man replied. “I’m Sam by the way.” 

“Anje. You sound like an American,” She lightly noted as her eyes scanned around the lightly busy room. 

Sam looked vaguely befuddled but composed himself quickly. “Wait, you’re one of us. _Shit_.” Sam shook his head and held up his hand, waving for the bartender to bring over a bottle. “This is going to be a long night.” 

Anje raised an eyebrow. “How do you know?” 

The front door of the tavern slammed open, and a sharp breeze sifted into the warm and fragrant tavern. Sam and Anje turned their attention to the person who had just kicked in the large wooden door, revealing a knight in full plate with a scowl upon his pale scarred face trudging into the tavern. 

“Oh, let’s just say it’s a gut feeling,” Sam sighed as the bartender dropped off a bottle of whiskey and three glasses. “Help yourself. Trust me, you’ll thank me later.” 

-Alex-

The minute Alex became cognizant of the swirling mists that surrounded him, he felt a scowl etch itself into his face. He looked around, his green eyes peering into the fog, looking for a door. There it stood, deep within the white, and Alex snarled as he marched toward it.

Alex didn’t waste any time as he booted the door open and trudged into the familiar tavern. The entire thing was decorated with familiar imagery, but he was too frustrated to really make note of it. 

_Fuck this bullshit, man. Fuck this and fuck you- YOU!_

The knight made eye contact with a familiar face. Sam sat there, green eyes seemingly uninterested. Another sat beside him, a woman in Feroxi garb with blonde hair. Alex ignored her as the clanking of his plate armor echoed through the tavern.

“You!” He growled, fiercely pointing a finger at the thief. “Who the _fuck_ do you think you are, leaving me with that goddamn tab!?”

“I’m a homeless man with nothing to my name,” Sam replied, nonplussed. “Please, spare me.”

Alex slammed his iron hand onto the table, glaring daggers at the thief. “You sneaky _dastard_. Do you think you can get off ripping me off like that? I’ll fold you over this goddamn chair and break your spine!”

Sam raised a hand. “First of all, it’s bastard, not dastard. If you're gonna insult me, do it properly. Second of all… second of all…” Sam glanced at Anje, “You got anything, cause I don’t.”

Anje shrugged. “I think the large one is going to…’ break your spine’ as I believe he said?” She glanced between the two men briefly. “Yes, let’s get on with this. Something entertaining, please.” 

“You’re new then,” Alex surmised, “Where’s Santos? Slippery mage fucker. Who are you?”

“Bet you wouldn’t threaten to break his spine…” Sam muttered under his breath.

“He had no arm, Sam, I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t give a fuck,” Alex growled, “I’d probably break his face, though. You guys just seem to piss me off.”

Sam swept towards Alex and threw a hand over his shoulder, causing Alex to freeze.

“See, here’s the thing,” In Sam’s other hand, Alex’s small pouch of coins appeared, “You don’t appear very light. Maybe you weren’t charged?”

“Why pay at all?” Anje gestures to the dimly lit bar with Halloween decorations. “I doubt they’d need it. Plus, this place is weird enough.” 

“I’m with the Russian.” Sam nodded.

Alex blinked before scratching his head. He looked from the coin pouch in Sam’s hand to the dented wooden table before grumbling, “I had enough mindfucks with the Pontifex. Christ.” He looked around. “Any drinks? Any, say, tequila?”

“Whiskey this time.” Sam nodded towards the table he had been sitting at, “Care to join?”

“Oh great, whiskey. My favorite,” Alex sighed, rolling his eyes, “Fuckin’... That great American shit. Fuck that. I wanna go home.”

Anje poured herself a glass. “It may be American shit, but at least it still burns a little bit. Like spoiled apple juice.” 

Sam shrugged. “I’ll admit, after how long I’ve been away from home, I’m starting to prefer the Feroxi Firewine. Whatever though, c’mon let’s go sit.”

Alex sat down, pouring the whiskey into a shot glass and sipping. “Home, Sam? Where is home? Where do you honestly believe it is? Mine’s back in Ylisse.” Alex turned to Anje. “What about you?”

-Sam-

_So here we sit,_ Sam thought as he swirled a glass of iced whisky in front of him, _Me, an angry knight, and the new Russian._ He brought his glass to his lips, took a long sip, and let out a satisfied gasp as the whisky burned down his throat, _Pretty sure I had an uncle tell me that joke once._

Alex’s question echoed in Sam’s mind for a moment, before he decided to dodge it. Better that than to confront the uncomfortable reality that getting home may end up being a pipe dream.

“Why don’t we start with our newcomer. Y’know, since you’re already aware I’m from both Wisconsin and Ylisse.” Sam said before turning his attention to Anje.

“Севастополь,” Anje replied, taking a long sip of her drink. “But that’s not what I’d like to think about.” 

“Speak plainly, sweetheart,” Alex grumbled, swirling the liquid in his tumbler around as he looked at Anje from across the table. “Have no idea what in Naga’s name you said first, but it’s not like anything that’s said here will leave this tavern. Hell, I didn’t remember Sam until I came in through that door. And he’s…” Alex perked up. “...Nevermind.”

Sam gave Alex a puzzled look but decided against pressing him on whatever he was going on about. Instead, he shrugged and let his elbows rest on the table, both hands wrapped around his glass.

“Pretty sure she just said where she lived, Alex.”

“Da. Listen better.”

Alex shrugged. “I never said I was smart. Or a good listener. I’m too busy getting drunk and wishing I were somewhere else.”

Sam shrugged. “You and me both, honestly.”

“And yet, I’m just confused.” Anje took another sip from her glass. “You said something about where you were from and Ylisse. What is ‘Wisconsin’?” 

“The land of cheese, fat people, and the Green Bay Packers,” Sam remarked, bringing his glass to his lips. “Good ol’ U, S, of A.”

“What my fellow American savage here means to say is that it’s not important; we both come from America.” Alex sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “And then we ended up in Ylisse. From the sounds of it, I guess you know where that is. You get transported across dimensions too?”

“Sounds like a disaster.” 

“Sometimes it is,” Sam acknowledged.

Anje set her glass down and let out a sigh. “So we are all in this ‘Ylisse’ or whatever? Is this place common for people from there? I’m not a fan of the people from there, though Ferox has been fine. Better parties at least. And fights.” 

Sam set his glass down, “I’m beginning to think a lot of NPCs from the game may be in our situation. What do you think, Alex? Or am I just being a conspiracy theorist?”

“Een-pee-see?” Anje sounded out, frowning as she tried to sound out the word. “What does that nonsense mean?” 

“You’re being a conspiracy theorist.” Alex shrugged. “I’m not sure if we’re all just freak accidents or some idiot gods are toying with us for their amusement. I don’t care. From the way she sounds, though, I’d say Anje over here is from Russia. Did Russia even get an Awakening translation?”

“What the hell are you talking about? And it’s _Ukraine_ now _._ ”

“That sounds like a disease,” Alex snorted. 

Sam groaned and pinched his nose, “Gawddammit Alex…”

Alex glared at Sam.

“The only disease here is this sad excuse for a drink and your shriveled arm.” She gestured to Alex’s metal hand. “And nobody answered what a damn ‘een-pee-see’ is.” Anje crossed her arms and glared. 

Before Alex could respond, Sam spoke up.

“NPC, non-playable character, as in from a-” Sam noticed even more confusion emitting from Anje, “You have no idea what the hell a video game is, do you?”

“Ahh, video game? Yes. Tetris is very fun.” 

Alex blinked before leaning forward. “...Tetris? Really? Okay, I know Ukraine isn’t exactly the most technologically… well, whatever.” He shrugged. “Play whatever you want, I guess, even if it’s decades old.”

“It’s actually pretty new. Must be bad news wherever you’re from,” Anje scoffed. 

Sam’s brow furrowed. None of this made sense. How could Tetris be new?

“Uh, Anje,” Sam shifted in his seat, sitting upright and folding his hands on the table, “What year is it?”

“In Ylisse? Don’t know. Back in Ukraine? Around 1993,” Anje replied. 

Sam’s eyes widened, “Nineteen ninety…” He slowly nodded, grabbed his drink, and drank the entire glass in one gulp. “I was born in 1997. For me, it is 2019, or 999 in Ylisse.”

Alex chuckled dryly. “Interdimensional travel _and_ time travel? Huh, well it’s been done before. Although last I checked it was 1001 in Ylisse.”

“Severa and I showed up early.” Sam quickly told Alex before returning his attention to Anje.

Anje rolled her eyes. “You are from the future? Prove it.” 

“Where’s Putin in your timeline?” Sam asked.

Anje tapped her chin, looking up thoughtfully. “Perhaps...I think St.Petersburg? Yes, that sounds right. Did a performance for the politicians there in early 92’.” 

“Putin has been either president or prime minister of Russia for nearly three decades.” Sam replied, “And in the process, he took Crimea, but don’t tell the Russians that.”

“It’s fine. I live in Ferox now. I don’t plan to go back ever. Olivia and I have many new tricks and performances that we’ve been working on. Much better gig,” Anje said. “Also, I’m sure this is still a dream, so that isn’t unbelievable. I could have guessed that. Probably.” 

“Why does it even matter? Hell, Sam, why do you even still _know_ that? From where we are, it doesn’t matter anymore,” Alex said, taking another swig from his shot glass. “None of this old world crap does.”

Sam grimaced, reached for the whisky bottle, and poured himself a new glass. He didn’t answer Alex, took a sip, savoring the drink, then clearing his throat.

“So, what’s new for all of you then?” He said, “As for me, I survived the future, kicked Grima in the balls, and am trying to figure out how to help the Shepherds while also being employed by King Gangrel.”

“The Shepherds? Are they still led by that do-gooder fop?” Anje mused. 

“Last I checked Virion wasn’t the leader, but whatever. Haven’t met the Shepherds yet, in the past at least.” And Sam took a drink.

“I’m going to ignore that Gangrel comment, but to answer your question, eh.” Alex leaned back, stretching his good arm. “We were about to make landfall on this big southern city taken by Risen. Shit’s fucked, but Chrom’s performed the Awakening so things are a bit brighter than they were a while ago. And yes, he’s still the leader of the Shepherds. And I bet he’s done far more good in his life than you have.”

“Shame,” Anje said, shaking her head. “He’s still a hopeless fool, and _Virion_ ,” She pointedly looked at Sam, “Would be a better option. He’s a superior leader and a better dresser. Easy choice.” 

“Chrom is the heart of the Shepherds,” Alex grumbled, “He’s the reason most of them are fighting. And I do think Virion is a good man, but his ‘strategies’ led to his entire dukedom being conquered within a day. Not exactly a hero of the people. Chrom’s got that in spades.”

“Perhaps, but playing soldier while his sister failed to run the country is hardly a sign of a good leader either,” Anje countered. “Besides, if Valm was closer I doubt Ylisse would have done better.” 

Alex raised a brow. “Playing 'soldier'? Yes, because manning the borders and protecting townspeople being ravaged by bandits is ‘playing’. I never knew Emmeryn, not really, but do you really have any right to judge royalty? You’re from two different worlds.”

Anje shrugged, nonchalantly sipping her beverage. “I can say as a performer, that her diving skills leave a lot to be desired.” 

And Sam choked on his drink.

-Anje-

Neither of the men at the table seemed to have an immediate response. Sam is nearly retching and the large knight has an unreadable expression upon his face as if he were made out of stone. _Did they really think a good ruler was one who’s best action was killing herself,_ Anje mused. At least the Feroxi are competent as the Ylisseans keep leaning on them for a capable military. Foolish boys playing favorites. 

Sam wheezed, “Fuck-” Another harsh cough wracked his lungs, “Gawds almighty you really went there. Holy shit.” He glanced at Alex, “Alex are you-”

Alex calmly took a sip from his shot glass before downing the whole thing in one gulp. “I’m just, uh…” He shook his head. “Why are you like this?”

“What?” Anje said, holding her arms out. Did they really think she was capable? She cleared her throat. “Would you like to dance around the prospect that the royal family of Ylisse is actually capable? Seriously? Chrom can hardly wipe his butt if it weren’t for that dog Frederick.” 

Sam’s eyes widened. Slowly he inched away from Alex, scooting down to the edge of the bench. The entire time, he gave Anje a look of utter disbelief and a bit of fear.

“You,” Alex took another swig. “Well, I can say for a fucking _fact_ , that they don’t need to prove themselves to an irreverent performer with attitude problems, for one thing.”

“Frederick wipes butts?” Sam mused out loud.

“It’s not a matter of proving anything to me. They merely showed it,” Anje said. “First sign of trouble and they go to the one country with any power on the continent. It’s all quite silly, don’t you think?” 

“I think you have no clue what the hell you’re on about,” Alex scratched his iron hand across the wooden table. “You keep saying these things like you could do better when all I hear is this fucking idiot who either thinks too highly of themselves or not enough.” Alex shook his head. “You have issues, and I think a few good wallops upside the head ought to do the trick.”

“Did Frederick ever wipe Exalt Lissa’s butt?” Sam stared down into his whisky glass before a look of horror crossed his face. “Did he ever wipe mine?”

_They’re obviously too attached_ , Anje mused as she sighed. Was it that difficult to be objective? Granted the whole continent is a mess, but to really defend those fools? Insanity wasn’t the right word. Stupidity? Probably. 

“Does Gangrel have someone to wipe his butt?” Sam downed his drink again and quickly poured another glass, “Hopefully I won’t have to wipe anyone’s butts.”

“Sam, if you pay anyone enough, someone will be willing to wipe your butt and more,” Anje replied. “They might even like it. I don’t think Frederick has seen the light of day in years from how he acts.” 

Sam blinked. His cheeks turned a little red, and he quickly buried his face into his third glass of whisky.

Alex looked between Sam and Anje before gently massaging his temple. “Naga, grant me strength…”

Sam slammed his glass back down on the table, shook his head, and waved a hand.

“Alright, alright, enough about butts. But what do you know about the Shepherds, Anje? I mean, I don’t know much about them either. I know the kids pretty well; me and Severa are close, but I still don’t know the adults well beyond Gaius, Anna, and Donnel.”

“I think some are okay. I was a part of their little group for a bit but left shortly after. Flavia gave me a better offer.” Anje exhaled deeply out her nose, lowering her voice. “Breaking Lon’qu’s legs made it an easier choice.” 

“You did what?” Sam squeaked.

“Oh shit,” Alex whistled.

“It was a fight in the arena. Apparently, even Feroxi are a bit squeamish when it comes to bloodsport, but I’ve learned my lesson.” She looked at the befuddled men and huffed. “He can still walk. Relax.” 

“I don’t think it was the bloodsport,” Alex chortled, “Lon’qu’s a gynophobe; he’s absolutely scared shitless by women. Anyone else and I think they would’ve broken _your_ legs instead.”

_This knight sure likes to try and dig at me, doesn’t he?_ Anje thought as she lightly tapped her fingers against the table. 

“Alright, alright,” Sam breathed, “There’s uh… well, I guess you were making a point Alex, but still, no need to go there. As for you, Anje, do you really need to be like this all the time? Like, I understand part of the time. Hell, Severa is as abrasive as sandpaper most of the time, but-”

“Watch your mouth, Sam,” Alex warned.

“I now live in a country where speaking my mind isn’t frowned upon, Sam. Perhaps you should not shy from the truth.”  
  
Sam sighed, “Well, in that case, you’re an asshole.”

“Agreed,” Alex commented.

“And you’re a dick.” Sam continued, glancing at Alex.

“Spine, Sam. Spine. Over the chair. _Crack._ ”

Anje narrowed her eyes on Sam. “You wanna get stabbed? Cause that’s how you get stabbed you, filthy little man.” 

-Alex-

Alex rubbed the bridge of his nose for what felt like the fifth time that night alone. All he wanted was to be anywhere else. Anywhere. As long as it was away from the slipper thief and the delusional performer. He sighed before leaned forward and had another shot.

Sam relaxed in his chair, not cowing to Anje’s threat in the slightest. Instead, he took a slow sip of his drink, kept his eyes on Anje, and gave her a wry smirk.

“It’d be fun to see you try.”

Alex squinted at Sam, before shrugging. “Take a level in badass, have you, Sammy-boy? Not sure I like it, but it’ll probably make it all the more satisfying when I give that new spine of yours a swift _snap_.”

Anje flipped out a knife from her thigh pocket. “Alright, I can place it between your eyes, Sam. That way the big one won’t miss it, and neither will you.” 

Sam’s relaxed posture did not waver. Instead, he leaned forward, giving Anje a better target.

“Question for you, Anje.” Sam began, “Do you think you could do it before I disembowel you?”

And that’s when Anje noticed the very large knife pointing right at her stomach.

“You may kill me,” Sam continued, “Fine. But my death will at least be fast. Yours will not, and Henry would be proud.”

“By Naga, Sev has taught you well,” Alex remarked. “Might be as good as me one day.”

Anje glanced at the kukri nestled near her abdomen. He _was_ sneaky. She smiled. “Then that means that big oaf.” She tilted her head toward Alex. “Gets the rest of the booze to himself. I’m not too sad. He needs it if he thinks Ylisse is worth much.” 

Sam slowly nodded, “Fair point, but I think it’d be a bad idea to leave all the booze to Alex. Might as well enjoy it ourselves too, right?” He slowly lowered his kukri and let it rest in his lap. Then he raised his glass of whisky to Anje, “Besides, this is all a dream, right?”

“Exactly,” Anje noted, raising her own glass. “All in good fun.” 

Alex waved his hand. “No, please, off each other. Maybe if I find a way to get Cordelia in here we could have a half-decent honeymoon. Maybe some wine instead of this shit whiskey, though.” He idly swirled his shot glass.

“Cordelia?” Anje asked, raising an eyebrow. “The sad pegasus rider that cries out Chrom’s name in bed?” She shook her head and took a sip of her drink. “You have my sympathies.” 

Sam gave Anje a stupefied look. “You’re gonna wish for the kukri now,” And he slowly moved to the side.

Alex stared blankly at Anje before he slowly said, “You just want to die, don’t you? If you wanted to commit suicide, you could’ve just walked off a bridge. Provoking me is much more painful.”

“I’m just saying if you’re going to aim high, don’t aim for the girl falling out of the sky over some fop.” 

Alex leaned his head back and closed his eyes. “I’m going to give you three seconds to take that back before I paint the walls with you.”

Anje glanced at the nearby dark wood walls. “Sorry, big guy. I think the coloring would clash. I’ll pass.” 

Sam snorted, drawing a brief look of ire from Alex.

“I’ll find a way to make it work. This is a dream, right? One.”

“Look,” Sam interjected, “Can’t we all just act a little civil?”

“Two”

“Alright, fuck me then,” Sam muttered, bringing his glass to his lips

Anje sighed, standing up from her chair. “Just remember, if you do manage to impale me, Alex, it’s probably the only girl that’s been penetrated by you not thinking about another man.”

“Bartender, I need another bottle!” Sam cried.

Alex nodded. “That so? Hmm. Alright. So that’s the way it’s gonna be?” Alex slowly stood up, the chair beneath him creaking as his armor clanked. “I guess Virion is going to have to go without his girl toy.” He drew Sol, the golden blade shining in the little light available. “How would you like your body cut? Sliced or diced?”

“What’s with you and Severa always using synonyms for comparisons?” Sam sighed.

“Alright, I’ve finished my notes! You can stop now!” A voice from the upper rafters called out. The three outsiders' heads craned upward.

-Santos-

Fascinating.

He couldn’t help but chuckle as he pocketed his notebook. The cognitive realm never seemed to be at a loss for wondrous encounters. Much like the standoff going down below in the tabled area with Sir Alex, Sam, and another weary outsider down below. Did they really not even look upstairs? The bar even had a pool table and ping pong, though human studies took precedent. 

The three looked up and seemed to squint their eyes at Santos, the dim wall sconces only illuminating some of the areas. He smiled and waved, casting a Warp spell as he did. 

_Now they can’t actually use their sharp toys against each other,_ he thought as the various weapons clanged at his feet. Even if it was a dream, the pain would be real. Probably. 

Sam glanced at his kukri at Santos’s feet, frowned, then let out a sigh, “I only threatened her _one_ time.” He huffed, but couldn’t help but crack a faint smile, “Nice to see you, Santos.”

Alex looked at his empty hand for a moment, his face was frozen for a moment before he pounded his iron hand against his flesh and blood one. “I don’t need a sword to kill you.”

Anje smirked. “Gonna fist me are you? Don’t tell your wife.” 

“Naga above, he’s already dead!” Sam muttered, “Santos, we need a doctor. Also, Santos, Anje. Anje, Santos. Please be nice to each other.”

“I fucking hate magic,” Anje grumbled. 

“One thing.” Sam let his head fall to the table, “One gawd damn thing and I still can’t get it.”

“A real charmer I see,” Santos said. “Anyway, it’s nearly time to leave this place. I’ve been keeping track of how long it phases in and out. Wrap up whatever it is, but _please_ try and keep it somewhat civil. The summoner isn’t too keen on messes.”

“The summoner?” Sam wondered out loud.

Alex gave Santos a weary look, “She’s insulted me and my wife for the past ten minutes and you expect me to just…” He shook his head. “You know what? Yes. You get to live for today. You’re not worth my time, you sad, sad woman.” 

“Surprised you can count,” Anje quipped, quickly followed by a yelp as she teleported one foot to her right. 

“Watch it,” Santos warned. “He’s my bottle opener.” 

“And buyer.” Sam pointed out.

“Nice catch, Sam. That reminds me,” Santos dug out a piece of paper from his pocket and tossed it down to Alex. “Thank you again. I tried not to treat myself too much tonight.” 

“Oh, yeah, it’s about to be over.” Sam gestured to Santos, “We’ll chat later. I’ve got to wake up before Severa pours a bucket of water on me… again.”

Without another word, Sam faded from existence.

Alex looked blankly at where Sam once sat. He too faded away, quickly followed by the antagonistic acrobat. The other patrons slowly began to puff into mist as the lights dimmed in the bar. 

“Well, crisis averted,” Santos mused as his robes began to fade into the mist. “At least, until they meet again…” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big fun writing this chapter. Curious to where these FE OC characters are from?
> 
> Check out:  
> Aberration by RedXEagl3 with Alex  
> Rigged from the Start by TheBobcat18 with Sam  
> A Wyvern's Tale by Stormtide_Leviathan with Anje, and Stolen Remedy with Santos
> 
> Thanks for reading, and hope this little interaction sequence was entertaining!


End file.
